Paradox
by IvyXLacrimosa
Summary: [AU] Kuroko Tetsuya doesn't exist, at least, not to those he cared about. Disappearing during the winter of his first year of high school, the traces left behind are slowly coming to the surface. It draws his friends into a life they never knew; one that reveals a Tetsuya they never should have met.
1. Azure Sky through the Night

**Gen / AU / Drama / Friendship**

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**[ 1 ]**

**_Azure Sky through the Night_**

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From where he was sitting within Maji Burger, Kagami Taiga could see the chill of late winter settling over town as night came closer and closer. In his hands—still half numb from his walk over there—the burger was something to appreciate, especially after a hard day of basketball.

Taking a bite, normal for him but large enough to scare some of the other customers, his dark eyes continued to stare absentmindedly outside the window. He paid them no mind, for his train of thought was rather pathless that day.

Life had calmed down after December had come to pass, with the Winter Cup having come to a predictable close. Seirin had lost to Yōsen, Himuro and Murasakibara proving too much for the second-years and Kagami. After that, the young team had watched silently as Kise advanced even further after facing what appeared to be an old acquaintance, a silver haired boy named Haizaki whose leer represented his whole personality.

Kise had led Kaijou against Yōsen mercilessly, but with a lingering injury from overexertion in his past matches, they fell against the defensive monsters after fighting through a close three quarters. The same could be said for Shῡtoku, who advanced steadily until they were entirely decimated by the captain of the Generation of Miracles, Akashi Seijῡrō.

In all honesty, the championship game was by far the strangest. Murasakibara flat out refused to play, going so far as to not dress down and leave when Himuro nearly snapped and punched the tall center. Kagami had felt a flair of anger for his pseudo brother, but hadn't talked to the dark haired boy, even when Yōsen lost undeniably to the Emperor Rakuzan. In fact, he couldn't even bring himself to do anything but leave, the presence of Akashi almost making him sick for some reason.

Returning to Seirin had felt strange, and when Kagami was begun to watch everyone, he could see the similar looks on his teammates' faces. It had been slow going, getting back into true, all out practice, and every once in a while, the redhead could still see the hesitance in his friends' expressions.

_Why did it feel like they were forgetting something?_

Riko had been quiet for the longest time, watching film from their final few games. She'd wanted to compare them to the game against Touou—how could they have gone from defeating the ace of the Generation of Miracles to losing so hard against Yōsen?

Yet she couldn't find the tape, and continued to frown in thought during the lulls in her practice when she wasn't yelling at them.

Kiyoshi brought good news back during his first visit with his physical therapist. After the games against Kirisaki Daīchi, Touou, and Yōsen, they'd thought that he wouldn't ever come back to basketball, but that was apparently untrue.

Similar to the situation a year before, he'd need surgery, but it was minor compared to what the brunette had been told before, and the recovery time was only about a month. Afterwards, he'd spend several weeks strengthening it back up again, and then be able to return to basketball. He'd be ready to compete by the start of Inter High next year.

That news had spurned celebration among the team, and rather than practicing they'd taken one day to go out and eat together—cheaply, as all of them were still broke, but they were together, and that was all that mattered.

Still, for Kagami, there was this feeling of… exposure, like there was a panel of glass in the back of his head and everyone could see through. That was false of course, but the feeling was still there, lingering, and the cause of goosebumps on his skin. It was like there was a hole in him that he couldn't find or fill, and he didn't know now to deal with it.

Even now, perched softly—as delicately as Kagami ever did anything— in his usual booth, he felt that itch of restlessness come over him again. Finishing his second burger with a soft exhale of frustration, he began to unwrap the third piece of his monumental meal.

Luckily, he was tired and hungry enough to overlook the feeling for the most part. Riko was experimenting with her training regimens again, combining things, throwing others out, and coming up with even more taxing activities. They'd spent that afternoon running and backpedaling through stairs, one of the simpler and most hated things by the team.

Needless to say, the redhead's calves were currently on fire, and the cold wasn't going to do anything for the soreness he was already feeling. Rolling his ankles around, he grimaced and the discomfort he was going to have to deal with tomorrow during practice.

Crumpling up the wrapper to the burger in his right hand, Kagami flicked a glance up as a noisy family entered the door, obviously picking food up on the go. Yet, even before he finished looking up, Kagami had stopped chewing, his mind wiped clean and having caught sight of something almost unintentionally.

_Blue._

It was just for a moment, just a split, life defining second that could have been called coincidence, luck, or fate. All Kagami saw was a face, flicking in the back of his lids and forming some strange recollection that placed someone else at the both with him.

Blue hair, light enough to almost look like ice, and eyes the same color as the sky, though not nearly as expressive even with their knowing appearance. A blank face, calm, quiet and attentive, and lips pursed in a thin line that could have portrayed annoyance or amusement.

Then it was gone, along with Kagami's breath, and the first-year was left staring at a child whose head just poked over the edge of the seat, and whose head was clad in a pale blue—_like his hair_—knit hat. Blinking, Kagami dropped his eyes, face paler than it had ever been in his life, and he set the unfinished third burger down.

For several minutes, he just stared at his lap where his shaking hands now rested, eyes not actually watching anything. He was focusing on breathing, and piecing together the fragments of that—_important_—face inside his head and failing miserably.

Unable to deal with that prickly feeling crawling under his skin, Kagami yanked his jacket back on and rose to his feet, snatching up the tray with a mountain of uneaten burgers on it. He dumped them out without a second thought, his stomach already threatening to upheave the two he'd eaten for some reason. He felt like his stomach was trying to knot itself up and make him upheave.

As he left, he made the mistake of flicking an automatic glance over his shoulder when the child giggled loudly. He turned and saw the barely smiling profile, the blue hat, and the nondescript white cup that Maji Burger used for all its drinks.

His feet carried him out the door he'd already opened, and he glided only a few steps farther after that. The hissing of his shoes on concrete went unnoticed, along with the chill in the air and flash of streetlights and meandering cars on the road. The world didn't have time for him, and, at the moment, he didn't have time for the world.

He had a name for that face now.

"Kuroko," the name rolled off his tongue slowly, a whisper almost overflowing with unbidden shock. Kagami blinked once, rising on his toes as everything in him tensed subconsciously. "You bastard," he choked out, turning on his heel and running instinctively.

It was back, all of it. _Kuroko_ was the stubborn, scentless boy who was unknown and unseen and yet saw everything and accepted everyone. The passes, the sudden terrifying and reassuring appearances out of nowhere when they'd thought they'd lost him, the determination that was relentless and uplifting and made you want to keep going, that damn dog, the booth at Maji Burger, winning and losing, and fighting and _succeeding_—

Kagami Taiga remembered Kuroko Tetsuya. Hesitating at a corner that turned to the street his best friend lived on, the redhead paused. But… where had it all gone in the first place? Breathless no because of the short run, but from the overwhelming sensation in him, Kagami licked his lips.

Why hadn't anyone remembered or said anything?

The second-years, Riko, and the Generation of Miracles all had said nothing at their close friend's absence for the past few weeks. He hadn't been brought up in practice, wasn't roll called in class—he'd sat _behind_ Kagami for goodness sake. After Touou—_damn it _that _was why they played so differently—_it was as if he'd never existed.

Finally turning the corner, Kagami hadn't realized it but his phone was sitting patiently in his palm, having been fished out of his pocket as some point. He faltered in his walk, but then looked up in contemplation, he could see Kuroko's house, and though it was something he'd only been near once or twice he remembered it clearly.

There was movement outside of it.

Kagami made up his mind without even thinking about it, breaking into a jog. He made his way down the mostly empty and quiet street, the dark, end of dusk air already stinging his tired lungs. When he made his way to the front of the home, he saw an open moving truck, and a man shifting a box of things around inside.

"What are you doing?" Kagami asked bluntly, without even thinking, a hint of his rage and uncertainty in the tone. The man looked up and blinked, seeming startled at the arrival at the out of breath boy that had appeared before him.

"I'm cleaning out an abandoned house. The tenants' rent was two months overdue," the man said curtly, rubbing what was probably sweat off his hands and onto his jeans before coming to the edge of the truck and frowning down at Kagami.

"Abandoned," Kagami drew out dumbly, lacking any coherent thoughts in that moment. His head turned toward the house, where the door was open but the building was dark, exuding no signs of life within. He turned back towards the man, and his confusion spurred a bemused look from the man, who raised a brow. Behind him, the old dark couch Kagami remembered sitting on during his one visit was sitting, mocking him. _That was Kuroko's couch._

Jumping numbly off the edge of the truck, the average man looked up at Kagami, scratching at his short hair. "Yeah, the couple who lived there, married, name was Kuroko or something weird like that, left out of the blue a while back, so, as per usual, my boss asked me to grab the things left behind to pay for their rent."

Peering shakily into the truck, Kagami could see several boxes and an assortment of furniture neatly packed into the half full truck, and it looked almost ominous with no light into it. Kagami's jaw worked, but no words came out, other than a single sentence.

It took a while to string the words together. "Just… a couple… no… son?" it sounded almost like gibberish, the words choked as Kagami's thoughts flitted to the parents he'd never met, suddenly more present in the world than their invisible son.

The man gave him a strange look, turning to pull down the back of the truck. "No. Boss never said anything about that, but I guess you could ask the neighbors if you really wanted to know." Latching the back door of the vehicle, the man nodded once politely at Kagami before walking to the front of the house and closing the door. After locking it with a key, he moved to the driver's side of the truck.

"Look, I got to go, so could you step off the road please?" The man indicated where Kagami prevented the truck from backing out with a nodded of his head, and Kagami stared down at his feet. Slowly, and without looking up, he took two long strides onto the sidewalk.

As the man left, Kagami sank down to the pavement, pulling out his phone again. With quaking hands, he managed to type out a one word message that he sent to the entirety of Seirin, his mind to numb to do anything else. They'd get it, right? They'd remember their friend, right? They'd remember _Kuroko_.

Right?

_To: [Click to see all addresses]_

_From: Kagami Taiga_

_Subject:_

_[kuroko]_

Staring at what he'd sent, Kagami closed the phone and took a good three minutes to get it back in the pocket of his jacket, before getting to his feet. He pivoted and stared at the house, almost hyperventilating at the fact that Kuroko was _gone_—

_How could he just vanish like that? Why did he just vanish like that?_

A curl of something like guilt ate at Kagami's breath, making his lungs tighter as he shuddered in the cold. He wanted to do something—_find that bastard_—but where would he start? Staring wide eyed at nothing, he scrambled for his phone again, suddenly remembering something.

Holding his pained breathes, he flipped through his contacts, anticipation building in him as he waited for that familiar name to appear. It didn't, even as he scrolled through the list a second and third time.

A deflated and fearful sigh escaped him, and he closed his phone again, resisting the urge to chuck it into the street. He clenched his hand around it, and the metal dug into his palm. His head was starting to hurt; pounding echoing his heartbeat pulsed in his temples. His eyes burned, having been open so wide for so long, and he blinked away the sudden water blurring his sight.

The thing in his hand vibrated, and he slowly brought it up again, fearing what he might see when he read it. Swallowing, he opened the message, from Riko, and felt his shoulders lock up at what he read. If he had been knocked over in that moment, he might have shattered in a million pieces.

_From: Aida Riko_

_To: Kagami Taiga_

_Subject: Re:_

_[What the heck are you talking about, Bakagami?]_

Over the next few minutes or maybe it was hours, or maybe just one, the messages slowly came from the rest of his team. All were in character for who sent them—sometimes politely and perfectly sent, others skewed and insulting— yet all portrayed the same message.

The name 'Kuroko' didn't ring any bells with his teammates. Trembling hands accidentally dropped the phone, and it cracked harshly against the sidewalk, but Kagami didn't really care at that point. He honestly felt a little sick, and the pressure against the back of his throat combined with his spinning head made him groan.

Unable to take it anymore, even as the phone rang harshly and repetitively with unread messages, he picked the cracked thing up off the sidewalk and turned it off, uncaring of how rude it was. He shoved it deep into his pocket as if it would help him forget about that strangely familiar house behind him and the face in his head.

Then he was running. Long, pounding strides quick enough to earn him some startled and suspicious stares but he didn't care. He just ran, quick enough for his lungs to burn desperately even as the dusk wind burned his eyes so bad he almost couldn't see.

He ended up at his own apartment, having not known what else to do. He barely pulled his shoes off before he was stumbling blindly toward the bathroom and puking up everything he'd eaten that night. Knees pulsing from the way he'd slammed to the ground, Kagami shuddered and wiped at his mouth, the acid taste disgusting but he was too tired to rise to his feet.

The cool tile of his bathroom soothed his back when he finally stopped gagging and managed to flush the toilet, and then he was staring up at nothing. He hadn't turned any of the lights on, but he wasn't actually aware enough of his surroundings to realize it. Every breath rattled in his raw throat, and all he could see was a face his team apparently didn't remember.

Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, Kagami inhaled through his nose, exhaling shakily. He didn't have any concept of time as he thought about his best friend and partner, and, suddenly, the Winter Cup and everything else seemed unimportant. To the rest of the world, someone who was important to him _didn't even exist._

"God dammit!" He screamed, slamming a fist down into the bathroom floor and gritting his teeth. He ignored the way pain tingled through his fingers. Breathing through his mouth harshly, he refused to succumb to the thought that it was so pathetic, to have simply_ forgotten_ someone so important.

Rolling onto his stomach, the redhead slowly made his way back to his feet, leaning heavily on the counter to clean his mouth of the taste of bile staining his tongue. Spitting out a mouthful of water violently, he almost missed a quiet noise that echoed through his home.

Someone was knocking on his front door.

As if he'd never heard the noise before, the redhead straightened, a hand running over his mouth, and made his way out of the bathroom. He stared at his front door for a moment, eyes blank and slowly becoming bloodshot, and listened.

It echoed again.

Licking his lips, Kagami made his way to his door, and opened it slowly. "Yeah?" he answered, peaking through the half opened door. He froze when he spotted an unexpected face outside the entranceway, and shuddered unintentionally, and he was left to hope that the darkness of the night would cover his strange nervousness.

"Kagami-kun?" The low, quiet, and solemn tone of the voice did not suit its owner's personality, and, for just a second, Kagami could almost pretend Kiyoshi Teppei wasn't standing outside his door. The brunet's heavy brows were furrowed low with blatant concern, and Kagami swallowed, doing his best to clear the distress from his face.

Remember the texts he'd been getting back, it was safe to assume that they'd sent someone to check to see if he was going crazy or not. (That was a novel thought though. What if he _was_ going insane? Kuroko had existed though; he had to have been real.)

"Kiyoshi-senpai," he mumbled, tacking on a suffix that he disregarded half the time. That alone was enough for the second-year center to unceremoniously move forward, gently pushing Kagami back into his apartment and shutting the door. The fact that Kagami's voice had cracked despite himself made Kiyoshi's expression soften.

Taking off his shoes, Kiyoshi flicked his warm gaze around the dark room, frowning to himself as his eyes returned to watching Kagami. The redhead tensed, expecting some sort of questioning disapproval and his entire being was quivering, but he nearly collapsed when Kiyoshi spoke words he'd never predicted he'd hear.

"I don't know what happened to him." The brunet admitted, eyes assessing Kagami with a defeated and puzzled look to them. Blinking, Kagami reached out without thinking, gripping Kiyoshi's shoulder with fingers that turned white slowly.

"You," choked out the redhead, almost in disbelief. "You remember him?" Hesitance laced through the inquiry, as if Kagami thought Kiyoshi would joke about such a thing, and the brunet frowned in quiet sadness.

Kiyoshi set his hand on Kagami's, face flickering with a grimace of regret, before he nodded slowly. "I didn't, not until you sent out that message, but that name, Kuroko… Kuroko Tetsuya, right?" Kagami nodded, watching as the older boy's face shuttered with concentration. "He had blue hair, blue eyes, and as strange as he was strong."

Listening to a description that could only come from Kiyoshi, Kagami let out a breath filled with pure relief, and then again, and again. For the first time in hours, he was breathing, and, eventually, he looked up at Kiyoshi. The brunet shook his head, and led Kagami to the living room, where they sat next to each other in uncertain silence for an achingly long period of time.

"Where did he go?" Breathed Kagami, now sitting across from Kiyoshi, in the same position they'd been since Kiyoshi had admitted to remembering. "How could we just forget about him like that? Why has it been _months?_"

The bubbling anger and panic in the power forwards eyes, the first true life in him since he'd thrown up at the horror of it all, had Kiyoshi setting a hand on his shoulder. Looking over at him, Kagami saw the same look—as if he'd seen a ghost that wasn't actually dead but should be—flicker in his teammate's eyes.

Swallowing, Kiyoshi looked more unsettled than Kagami had ever seen in his life. "I think," Kiyoshi mumbled, "The more important question is _why_ Kuroko vanished like that. Because even for him, that's a pretty impressive disappearance."

There was no humor in the words, and the two who had finally remembered their teammate were left to sit in silence for the rest of the night. They didn't know what to do with what they knew.


	2. Face of an Unfamiliar Friend

**_A/N: _**Huh, I didn't expect such a good response on an idea that just kind of happened. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**_Also, keep in mind the timeline of this story_**. Kuroko vanished after the win versus Touou, so the GoM's past was never revealed. Just thought you might want to know if you didn't already.

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**[ 2 ]**

**_Face of an Unfamiliar Friend_**

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The next day was torture, because while Kagami didn't have to face the rest of his team since it was the weekend, he was left contemplating the problem that suddenly dominated his life. A little know problem that his best friend _didn't exist to anyone but him and Kiyoshi_.

Sunday had been one of the longest days of the redhead's life, and he'd honestly never felt so lost. His stomach was still too uneasy to really eat anything, and his fingers were aching with how he hadn't been able to keep them from twisting together and tapping. He actually been absentminded enough to run into the door and stub his toes repeatedly on his living room's coffee table.

Surprisingly the one thing that had kept him from entirely losing it was Kiyoshi, who, despite his obvious confusion and uneasiness about the whole situation was a very efficient and reassuring presence. The brunet had spent the night at Kagami's apartment, the first time any of his teammates had done so, yet it was easy, like breathing.

This, when Kagami thought about it, was increasingly getting more difficult, since he'd remember things that made his breath catch and halt like he was choking.

He'd see the neighbors walking their little black and white Shiba Inu, a fluffy little thing that looked like a fur ball on legs, and almost sigh. (Despite his hatred of dogs, something about this sparked a nostalgic longing in him, especially when he remembered the dog that Kuroko had owned. He was even missing that damn eerie thing, wherever the hell it had ended up.)

When Kiyoshi had given him a disapproving but light glance when Kagami declined eating breakfast, there had been a flash in the redhead that remembered that look being directed at Kuroko. The little bastard never had much of an appetite.

They hadn't really spoken much after the revelation of a gap in their world, just sat across from each other as they came to terms with what they'd forgotten. Intermixed it the silent amazement—_they'd forgotten a _person_ after all_—there was guilt, and fear, and sadness, and a feeling of helplessness. If Kiyoshi hadn't have shown up, looking just as uncomfortable (as much as Kiyoshi ever did) as Kagami, the redhead had felt so relieved.

When the light had begun to filter through the windows to Kagami's apartment, signaling they'd spent hours simply sitting there, numb, they'd both traded displeased and uncertain looks. Again, Kagami was more expressive, while Kiyoshi merely furrowed his brows and pursed his lips. The lack of jokes from the normally lighthearted second-year seemed to keep the room solemn.

Eventually, when the damn was now passing and Kagami had paced the room several thousand times, Kiyoshi spoke up, voice so soft it was almost a piece of the silence. "How did you remember?" He inquired lightly, not needing to specify what he was asking about. It was the only thing on their minds.

Licking his lips, Kagami absentmindedly tapped the phone in his pocket, eyes downcast. "I was at Maji Burger. He—we—ate there all the time," the rasping tone of his voice made Kagami clear his throat. "It was… that kid, the color of the hat he was wearing. It just…"

Kiyoshi nodded, the assessing look to his eyes dissipating as he pieced together what Kagami had encountered the day before to make him remember. A look of sympathy flittered through his eyes, and, after a moment, he murmured, "All of it at once? It's still coming and going for me, like I have to keep thinking about it, but it seems different for you."

Kagami frowned, pulling up short in his route from the curtained window to the kitchen isle counter. Licking his lips, he nodded once, "It was like… waking up from a dream without having to open your eyes. I go from eating like I normally do—or did—over the last few weeks, to wondering why that damn silent bastard isn't sitting in front of me with those blank eyes."

Though he probably didn't notice it, his frown was tinged in worry, and he shivered almost imperceptivity in that moment. He'd still failed to recover true color to his face, the tan skin splotchy and drained in strange ways.

"You didn't take it well, I assume." There was understanding in the center's voice, and when dark red eyes met steely, unwavering brown, Kagami realized that they were sharing some of the same emotion at rediscovering an overlooked friend.

Obviously, neither of them was happy about it, though, in hindsight, Kagami _should_ have noticed how expressive the usually composed second-year was. That, more than anything else, tipped the scales on the seriousness of the situation.

Because, for God's sake, Kuroko was _gone_, and that whole idea was so fundamentally _wrong_ that it was hard for Kagami to get his head around.

"I threw what was left of my food away and just ran," admitted Kagami, thinking for a half a second before pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I'm not sure why, but… before I did anything else, even sending out that stupid message, I went to his house." A disgusted look was born on his face at the memories, and the redhead tossed the phone haphazardly onto the table.

Kiyoshi's brows rose at this, and then the tall boy was off the couch, moving lightly and slowly over to the kitchen. "Do you have something to drink, or…?" the brunet let the question hang in the air for half a moment, and the redhead had to shake himself back to the present to respond.

"Ah," Kagami blinked, "There should be a bottle or two in the fridge… I think." The lack of emotion in his words spoke greatly for how out of sorts he still was, especially when he only continued to watch dumbly as Kiyoshi popped open the fridge and came out with two bottles of water.

Shaking one lightly in his hand as a means of drawing attention, Kiyoshi held it out towards Kagami. "D'you want one?" The polite tone was probing, and the suggestion had Kagami slowly nodding and grabbing the thing out of the air when Kiyoshi tossed it nimbly and neatly to him.

After taking a long, slow sip, his eyes on Kagami the whole time, Kiyoshi seemed to gather himself. His lips pursed for half a second, and then he let his eyes leave Kagami's to gaze absentmindedly out the window.

"It was empty, I'm guessing?" Kiyoshi's lilting half-question confusion roused a puzzlement that was obvious enough in Kagami's expression to make the man clarify his statement. "Kuroko-kun's home. It was empty, right?"

The softness to the words was the only reason Kagami didn't flinch at the question, but the way his expression became crestfallen obviously gave enough of an answer for Kiyoshi. His brows knitted, even as words Kagami didn't want to speak tumbled helplessly from his lips.

"There was a man… putting all their stuff away in a truck. He said rent was overdo, and the door was open, and it was deserted, and—" Cutting himself off as he pushed a hand so harshly through his hair it looked painful, the redhead first-year inhaled deeply through his nose, before chugging down half the water in his grasp.

Silently sipping from his own bottle, the brunet boy exited the kitchen, stepping lightly and taking a seat on the couch again. Taking that as a cue, Kagami sank into his own spot, the tension fleeing his body but not his expression.

Setting the container onto the table, Kiyoshi's eyes lingered on the piece of furniture, something having caught his eye. His large fingers slipped from the plastic to a little metal device sitting innocently on the otherwise dull table.

"What did… the others say about that message you sent out? I know it jogged my memory a bit, but I wasn't levelheaded enough to realize it might not have worked for everyone else." The notch between Kiyoshi's heavy brows showed both his displeasure at the situation and the severity of it all.

"I turned it off after I got a few of them," muttered the redhead, leaning forward so his head was practically between his knees. His hands hung in the air, elbows resting on his legs as his chest heaved with stressed breaths.

The curtness of the response, and the deadness of the tone that delivered it, had Kiyoshi looking down at the phone with atypical cynicism. After half a moment, the center turned it back on, holding the painfully tiny thing between his two large hands.

Half a second after the light illuminated Kiyoshi's tanned fingers, Kagami watched as it began to vibrate in his hand, buzzing angrily as it was flooded with texts. Blinking rapidly as if this had shocked him slightly, Kagami's senior looked up at him for approval.

Shrugging, he laced his fingers together again, watching in anticipation. Dreading and hoping at the same time, a dreadful combination that had his stomach rolling and throat constricting around nothing in particular.

Kiyoshi's expression progressively darkened, in small increments albeit, but it was enough slight frustration and discontent to give Kagami an idea of what their teammates remembered. Nothing at all.

* * *

Although Kiyoshi wasn't planning on telling Kagami, he'd already known about Kuroko's empty house. He'd visited it, too, right before he'd sprinted—a dead sprint of panic and fear and uncertainty—to check on Kagami. He really shouldn't be running, let alone walking, since he'd only just started his rehabilitation after his surgery. But the situation called for selfish and reckless behavior, in Kiyoshi's opinion, even if he'd ended up running several blocks.

The reason for it was because Kiyoshi had been at the convenience store near his home, planning to grab snack after having eaten dinner with Izuki's family that night. He hadn't even entered the brightly lit building when his phone had vibrated in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

He remembered he'd been humming at the time, some sappy tune that Izuki's mother had been singing as she'd cooked. He didn't have any words to go with the tune, but the lightness of it was enough for him.

He'd been humming up until he'd lazily opened the message he'd received, and when he read it, he was aware of nothing. Kiyoshi was nearly positive once he calmed down that he'd stopped breathing, and had blocked the doorway for a good handful of minutes before he was moving automatically.

_Kuroko_…

It was similar to how he'd felt that summer during training at the beach, like a heat wave, with clarity thrown in every few moments for startling effect. Like watching a moving a reverse, with only moments shown in real time, and the whole time Kiyoshi felt like a pair of blue eyes were staring right through him.

Shoving his phone deep into the recesses of his pocket, he'd spun on his heel, nearly taking out a rather unnerved looking young woman in his haste, and ran to the house that was the most prominent thing in his head at the moment.

_"Thank you for sharing your umbrella, Kiyoshi-sempai."_

It overlapped with what he was seeing as he came up on the lifeless house, a blurry, rainy scene playing in his head. The pitter of a downpour tapped in time with his heavy steps, and, when he looked straight ahead, he could almost make out the slim silhouette of a ghost-like boy out of the corner of his eyes.

Slowing to a stop, eyes locked in confusion on the house before him, Kiyoshi subconsciously raised his hand as if to hold an umbrella he wasn't carrying. No one was around to see his strange behavior, but this also meant that the voice that echoed in his head was poignant and haunting.

Letting loose a sigh, Kiyoshi pursed his lips to keep from mimicking his own voice in the memory.

_"It's no big deal, Kuroko, that's what friends do, right?"_

Then that apparition of a boy moved out of the shade of the umbrella, moving toward that empty house and flickering in and out of focus as if Kiyoshi was repeatedly blinking. His form—_Kuroko_—shifted and swaying, and if it wasn't for how brightly his white skin contrasted against the scene, Kiyoshi wasn't sure if he'd have seen what happened next.

A hand lifted in a wave, and thin, immobile lips tilted just slightly, the expression so potently warm despite the smallness of the movement that Kiyoshi felt his breath slip away. The picture behind his lids, of this ghostly boy who was so broken and determined, cleared into perfect clarity.

Another picture popped into his head, an empty gym, and a tired pair of eyes that were hard enough to cut diamonds and a grim set to his lips. Kiyoshi could taste the sweet candy he'd been eating that day on his tongue, and the curious anticipation on the boy's face.

That was Kuroko, smarter and stronger than any of them, and more damaged than all of them combined. He played in a way that Kiyoshi was very fond of, and was unshakably _there_, even if no one saw him.

Except he wasn't now, he was gone, and Kiyoshi had no way to fathom how that came about.

Eventually, after enough time had passed that there was no sign of life or light anywhere, one of the neighbors noticed him and came out in concern. It was an elderly woman, and, if his forlorn look wasn't enough to convince her something was wrong, the wetness in his eyes certainly was.

_How did one forget a person?_

"Is there something troubling you?" she murmured carefully, hand lightly touching his arm to catch his attention. Blinking multiple times to clear the haze over his eyes, he smiled lightly down at the woman in appreciation.

"Just a lot of things I forgot about," he replied lightly, a bittersweet guilt burling around his breastbone. Her dark eyes peered up at him, sharp and intelligent as any other person, and her lips, set around a sea of laugh lines, turned down.

Turning away from him, she studied Kuroko's now silent and closed house. "Did you know the couple of who lived here?" The question was soft, not really requiring and answer, but the grandmotherly woman was simply offering someone to confide in.

Kiyoshi lightly replied. "I never met them," he informed her, eyes still on the door. He wasn't so out of it that he didn't hear the word _couple_ instead of _family_. In his pants pocket, his hand curled around his phone, and a sense of loneliness, of knowledge unshared, flitted through him like a flighty bird.

And suddenly, rather than unconsciously knowing that he wasn't the only one who knew this—as some part of him had registered and remembered that the text had been sent by Kagami—he worried about the other boy who knew this.

He hadn't sent a reply back, too caught up in the whirl of nostalgic and melancholic emotions that tainted his lost memoires, but now, he wondered if anyone else knew. Frowning and already having made up his mind, Kiyoshi turned to the woman who was watching him curiously.

"Thank you for checking up on me, I really appreciate it," he soothed her grimace with a reassuring, and more stable, smile. "I forgot about it, but someone's waiting for me, so I have to leave." He stepped away from her, his hand slipping out of his pocket as he waved.

Before he turned to begin his fitful journey to Kagami's, he turned to thank her again. Kiyoshi ended up choking on his words though, eyes traveling past the tiny old woman to the front door of Kuroko's home. His eyes deceived him again, and he saw those blue eyes, and hand waving in the shadow of a door that wasn't actually open.

_"See you later, Kiyoshi-sempai."_

* * *

When the two boys, who had still failed to make any progress on the subject of Kuroko, returned to Seirin the next Monday, it was the start of a new year. They'd taken exams—something they'd forgotten had occurred already—weeks before, and they were both officially older in terms of school year.

The week before, they'd welcomed new first-years, who, unaware of the trials and tribulations that had truly befallen Seirin, joined the basketball club. There weren't that many of them, three in total, and only one that really stood out.

Kiyoshi and Kagami, who'd not spoken about their ordeal, and hadn't acted out of place, per Kiyoshi's suggestion, had arrived late to practice. Kiyoshi had been late because Hyuga and Riko had pulled him aside to discuss the first-years and Kagami was late because, well, the redhead wasn't that great of an actor.

Even after a day to deal with it, Kagami still had bags under his eyes and a look on his face that said he was unnerved by the fact that there wasn't that presence sitting behind him in class. Furihata, who had ended up in the same class as him that year, 2-B, had stared with concern the whole day, and had no doubt spread the word. After all, a silent Kagami might as well be the sign of an apocalypse.

The now second-year power forward had been predictably interrogated upon entering the gym, by Riko, unsurprisingly. In the background, Kiyoshi was talking with the new first-years, his knowing eyes watching Kagami carefully. Hyuga was off to the side, looking for the entire world like a bewildered and concerned older brother.

That in itself was enough to draw the attention of the team, but they stayed a safe distance, knowing Riko would do something about it.

"What in the world is wrong with you?" She snapped, hands on her hips and eyes hard and searching. "You look like a zombie, and it's not like we have a game any time soon."

Kagami stared down at her, not saying anything, something akin to wrathful disappointment in his eyes, wistful and cagey all at once. His hands were in loose fists at his side, and as he turned his head to the side with a disgusted expression on his face, Riko's expression fell just a bit.

"What was with that message you sent out, too?" She moved into his line of sight, making him meet her eyes. "Is there something bothering you? What did you mean by 'kuroko'?"

Her questions made his jaw clench, and he instinctively met Kiyoshi's eyes over her shoulder for a second. That was all Hyuga, who'd been observing the situation quietly, needed to turn and scowl at his long-time friend.

The tension in the air was palpable, and, as the remainder of the team uncertainly shuffled around the outskirts of the scene, one of the three new members stepped forward, honey colored eyes and rusty orange hair bright and in tune with his obviously impulsive decision.

"I… don't know what's going on," he sheepishly inserted, eyes confident where his tone was not, "But, maybe we could deal with it after practice…?"

Riko grimaced and then huffed, turning away and stomping toward where her things waited. The boys of Seirin flinched in anticipation at the fury that was no doubt waiting for them because of the new boy's innocent and misplaced words.

"Who are you, anyway?" Snapped Kagami, making his way toward the group and letting go of some of the anger he'd been feeling. The group seemed taken aback by the unbiased wrath and malice in the typically fiery but kind boy's voice.

Unperturbed, the orange haired newcomer, who was just barely shorter than Kagami, straightened. "I'm a second-year transfer. I haven't played basketball in a few years, but I hope you'll take care of my. I'm Ogiwara Shigehiro, it's nice to meet you."

He offered a hand, and Kagami reluctantly reached out to shake it, eyes still clouded darkly. Off to the side, Hyuga had come to stand by Kiyoshi, who lifted a shoulder in a shrug in reply to his friend's silent question. After all, they were all confused.


End file.
